


Venkii

by wheel_pen



Series: Venkii [1]
Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-20
Updated: 2013-04-20
Packaged: 2017-12-09 01:00:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/768148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheel_pen/pseuds/wheel_pen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Enterprise meets a group of space-faring humans. Their origin story is fanciful, to say the least—they claim they were kidnapped from Earth by aliens five hundred years ago and given spaceships in which to explore the galaxy. Archer is definitely skeptical, but also kind of excited.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Venkii

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. The Venkii are humans who left Earth long ago, and have a few extra enhancements by now.
> 
> 2\. The bad words are censored. That’s just how I do things.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this AU. I own nothing and appreciate the chance to play in this universe.

            _Their first alien trading post._ Archer tried not to get too excited. But who knew _how_ many different species were waiting down there, peacefully coexisting, speaking all the different languages, eating all the different foods, flying all the different ships—sometimes it seemed like there was just _so much_ in the galaxy to learn, they would never figure it all out. It was a little overwhelming. But that had never stopped Jonathan Archer from plunging ahead into the unknown.

            "Open a channel," he nodded at Hoshi. She pressed a few buttons and signaled to him.

            "This is Captain Jonathan Archer of the starship _Enterprise_ ," he announced firmly. "Requesting permission to approach and disembark personnel." He hoped those were the right commands, anyway.

            For a long moment there was silence, and Archer glanced at Hoshi. The Communications Officer was staring pensively at her console. Finally she told him, "They're responding. Audio only."

            Archer nodded and the crackle of a communications channel opening filled the Bridge's speakers for a moment before the message began. "This is Administrator Fladouth of space station Girthlaine," the voice replied. "Um... who did you say you were again?"

            Archer gave Hoshi a quizzical look. "Captain Jonathan Archer, of _Enterprise_ ," he repeated. "We're from the planet Earth."

            There was some hesitation on the administrator's end. Then he answered, "Of course, Captain... Archer." Something in his tone made Jon suspect the alien didn't quite believe him, but had decided to humor him anyway. Which, of all the responses Archer had ever anticipated receiving from an alien space station, had to be one of the least likely. "Please feel free to disembark any personnel you wish."

            "Thank you," Archer told him cordially, trying not to let the confusion he felt seep into his voice. "We'll send a small ship down shortly."

            "Certainly," the administrator agreed. "It is always a pleasure doing business with your people."

            Now Archer was _really_ mystified. Still, a warm welcome was a warm welcome, so he closed the channel and ordered Trip to load up the shuttlepod. No use complaining too much that people seemed to like them even before they'd _met_ them.

 

***

 

            Trip and Malcolm grinned at each other, then at the two gorgeous and thoroughly exotic women sitting across the table from them. Possibly, this could be the best away mission ever. The Captain _had_ said to 'interact with the locals,' after all.

            "So, uh, where are you two ladies from?" Trip prompted cheerfully, taking a sip of the tasty and colorful drink in front of him.

            They giggled at each other, the violet-colored plumes that might have been either decoration or... attached bobbing atop their heads. "Oh, we're just city girls," one replied dismissively. "Born and bred."

            "I've never even been outside this sector," the other admitted flirtatiously.

            "But _you_ two must have traveled from one end of the galaxy to the other," the first continued leadingly.

            "Why do you say that?" Malcolm asked, curious.

            The two women giggled again, as if enjoying some private knowledge or joke. "Oh, the Venkii have a well-known reputation," the second woman assured them.

            "But we've never actually _met_ any before," the first revealed excitedly. "I heard you weren't allowed to _fraternize_ very much with... aliens."

            Trip was about to say how much he would indeed enjoy fraternizing with them, but Malcolm broke in with a more practical question. "Sorry, did you say the... Venkii?"

            Another snickering look passed between the women. Well, at least they were in a good mood. "That's what you _are_ , isn't?" one chuckled, and now Trip was beginning to get them mixed up.

            "Don't worry," the other assured them. "We won't tell your captain you're down here."

            "Well, that's real sweet of you—" Trip began, but Malcolm, that spoilsport, cut him off.

            "I think you have us mixed up with some other species," he pointed out. "We're humans, from Earth."

            The two women suddenly appeared decidedly less enthusiastic, and Trip glared at Malcolm. The women both glanced down at something in their laps, frowning, then back up. "Humans? Never heard of _them_ ," one replied, with slight distaste.

            "The scan said Venkii," the other reminded her friend accusingly.

            "Maybe it's malfunctioning," the first shrugged. Then they both turned dubious looks across the table.

            "Hang on there, ladies, I'm sure humans must be just as interesting as—" Trip tried.

            The women were already standing up, however. "Thanks for the drinks," one said politely.

            "Have a good time in the city," the other wished. Then they were gone. Trip let out a huge sigh of disappointment and turned to Malcolm with a dirty look. The Tactical Officer shrugged apologetically.   

 

***

 

            _Great_ , Travis thought. _The Captain is never going to let me and Hoshi go somewhere by ourselves again._

            It wasn't even that they'd been kidnapped by a gang of criminals and were currently tied up in some dark shack in the bad part of town. It was that they'd been kidnapped by, apparently, one of the most _inept_ gangs of criminals on the planet. They'd looked almost as surprised as Travis had when the helmsman had fallen for the old 'hey pal have you got a light' routine. Well, what could he say, Boomers didn't encounter a lot of muggers.

            "You're not gonna believe this!" one criminal said excitedly to the other, showing off the results on a scanner display. "Look! They're Ven..."

            Travis missed the rest of the word. Maybe the UT was malfunctioning? Which was _exactly_ what they needed right now.

            The other criminal seemed less enthused than the first. "Geez! Are you stupid? Bringing _them_ here? They've got a whole ship full up in orbit! They could blast this block off the map!"

            Travis wondered how the alien criminals knew about _Enterprise_ and her weapons capability (slightly exaggerated though it may be), but as long as it kept them safe, he wasn't going to question it.

            "But if they are Venkii, the woman could be very valuable," the first criminal pointed out.

            Travis's eyes widened and he squirmed more with his bonds. He felt Hoshi doing the same. Miraculously, the knots started to loosen almost immediately. These really _were_ the most incompetent criminals on the planet.

            "They'll hunt us down—you _know_ their reputation, they're ruthless!" the second criminal argued.

            Travis didn't have time to process much of what they were saying. He and Hoshi had managed to free themselves and decided to concentrate more on slipping away into the darkness, completely unnoticed.

 

***

 

            "They've come to a complete stop," the sensor officer reported.

            "Dead stop," the captain signaled to the helm officer. He looked pensively at the ship on the viewscreen. "Is there something wrong with them?"

            "Scans indicate no damage," the sensor officer replied.

            "Then why would they stop?" the captain wondered.

            "Perhaps they've detected us," the woman in the chair to his right suggested, with a hint of amusement in her voice.

            The captain gave her a sharp look. "If they have I'll want to know why," he pointed out.

            She raised a hand to placate him. "Of course, of course," she assured him. "But they are very clever. Very curious. It might have been a fluke."

            "The stop could be nothing, sir," the second-in-command offered from his post. "Just some test they want to run, or a bit of dust they want to inspect."

            The captain smirked a little. "They _are_ very curious, after all."

            The communications officer looked up in alarm. "Sir," he reported, "we're being hailed! It's them."

            The captain glared at the woman beside him as if to say, "I told you so!" She shrugged without concern. "Let's have it," the captain decided. "But don't let them think we've answered."

            The viewscreen image flickered and was replaced by a picture of a stern-looking officer. " _This is Captain Jonathan Archer of the Earth ship_ Enterprise," he told them. " _We know you've been following us. Respond._ "

            The communications officer looked at the captain questioningly, but he shook his head. No response.

            Archer paced a bit, then continued, " _Our mission is one of peaceful exploration and discovery. We're very interested in meeting new species. Please respond_."

            "Next he'll have to threaten us," the second-in-command predicted.

            "Interesting Bridge design, don't you think," the captain commented, looking at the background on the image.

            "Looks a bit uncomfortable to me," the woman replied.

            Archer's expression changed to one of grim determination. "Here we go," said the second-in-command.

            " _Our_ _species considers it very offensive to be followed by an unknown, cloaked vessel. If you do not respond to us immediately, we will be forced to open fire._ "

            "You shouldn't let them fire on us," the woman chided the captain.

            "I doubt they'd do much harm," the second countered.

            "Still, sir," the security officer put in, "if they hit us, it would confirm our presence. And then they'd probably keep firing."

            "How did they detect us?" the captain asked the Bridge at large. "That's what I want to know." No one could supply that answer. "Well, we aren't here to get into a firefight with them. Open hailing frequencies. Audio only," he told the communications officer. He nodded. "Captain Archer. So sorry to give offense. It was not intended."

            Archer still looked slightly suspicious on the viewscreen, although also relieved that he hadn't been just talking to space. " _May I ask to whom I'm speaking?"_

            "This is Captain Dominic Archelus," the captain replied, "of the Venkii."

            " _The Venkii_ ," Archer repeated. Archelus knew he'd recognized the name. " _We've heard of your species, but never met any._ "

            "Well you still haven't, have you, Captain?" Archelus pointed out with a bit of a smirk.

            There was a brief answering smile on Archer's face, almost involuntary. Archelus decided he would like this man. " _It would be a lot easier for us to talk if we could_ —" There was a beep on _Enterprise_ 's side, almost simultaneous with one on Archelus's Bridge.

            Archelus glanced at the small display screen in the arm of his chair. "Two Klingon Birds-of-Prey," it read, showing a schematic of their approach.

            " _Captain Archelus_ ," Archer continued after a moment spent to the side at one of his crew stations, " _I apologize for the interruption, but can we continue this conversation in a few minutes. I'm afraid we're about to have some very insistent company_."

            "Of course, Captain," Archelus assured him. "I understand." The picture of Archer and his Bridge disappeared, replaced with the image of _Enterprise_ in space.

            "Klingons are closing," the security officer reported.

            "They're hailing _Enterprise_ ," the communications officer noted.

            "Let's listen in," Archelus told him.

            "— _of the warship_ KumaK _, you have violated Klingon territory. Leave immediately or we will impound your vessel_!"

            Archelus frowned. "We're not in Klingon territory, are we?"

            The second shook his head. "Treaty boundary's two lightyears away. They're just feeling greedy today."

            Archer's voice came through the comm system. "— _no indication we were in Klingon territory. We're on a peaceful mission of exploration_ —"

            "I expect _Enterprise_ is outgunned," Archelus commented dryly.

            "By quite a bit, sir," the security officer confirmed.

            " _This is your final warning!_ " barked the Klingon captain to Archer.

            " _Enterprise_ has powered up her impulse engines and her weapons," the sensor officer told them.

            "Klingons are locking weapons on _Enterprise_ ," added the security officer.

            Archelus turned to the communications officer. "Audio channel to the Klingons." He nodded. "Klingon captain. You and your patrol must be _confused_. We're nowhere near Klingon territory, unless the boundary set by the Treaty of Rangor has moved."

            " _Who is this_?!" sputtered the Klingon captain.

            "Captain Archelus of the Venkii," the captain revealed in a peeved tone. "You very rudely interrupted a conversation I was having with Captain Archer. I suggest you withdraw and find some other ship to harass."

            " _Where are you_?" demanded the Klingon. " _We detect no other ships in the vicinity_!"

            "Well you wouldn't, would you?" Archelus shot back, annoyed.

            " _This is just a trick_ ," the Klingon decided. "Enterprise _is ours_."

            "Fire one shot and only one of you will be limping home to report this!" Archelus threatened. "Decloak," he added to the woman beside him. The massive black ship, starlight glinting faintly on its many ungainly bumps and bulges, seemed to materialize from nowhere behind _Enterprise_ , dwarfing both it and the Birds-of-Prey. Archelus could only imagine the surprise on the faces of those on the other ships—he enjoyed this part. After a moment he continued, "Now you were saying something about making a mistake?"

            " _Our navigational arrays must be malfunctioning_ ," the Klingon captain replied, after a brief hesitation. He could hardly grind the words out. " _You are not in our territory_."

            "Klingon ships are moving away," the security officer reported.

            Archelus rolled his eyes. "Are the Klingons out of border wars to fight or what?" he asked rhetorically.

            "Budget crunch at the capital," the second-in-command suggested knowledgeably. "Forces the captains to turn to piracy to make a profit."

            "They'll be like the Ferengi next," Archelus noted with distaste.

            " _Enterprise_ is hailing us."

            "How's my hair?" the captain asked the woman beside him. She frowned discouragingly and he grinned. "Visual," he told the communications officer, standing in front of his chair.

            " _Thanks a lot_ ," Archer began. " _We've had trouble_ —" He broke off as he got a good look at Archelus.

            "No problem at all, Captain Archer," Archelus assured him smoothly. "I have a feeling there's much we could discuss," he added leadingly.

            " _I was just thinking the same thing_ ," Archer agreed. " _Would you care to dine aboard our ship? Say, eighteen hundred hours_?"

            "Very hospitable of you, Captain. I look forward to it." The channel closed. Archelus turned to his second. "Well, Patrick, how would you like some modern Earth food tonight?"

            "D'you think they've got Irish stew?" the burly man asked.

            Archelus smirked a little, then faced the woman with a more serious expression. "I want someone to come with us, who can keep her mind to herself," he told her.

            She frowned at him. "We've been invited onboard," she protested.

            "We're not going to take anything from them that isn't freely offered," Archelus countered firmly. He shrugged and added, "It seems they downloaded most of their database to Smithworld anyway."

            "Not the technical schematics," the woman pointed out. "Or logs."

            "No," the captain said, with finality. "This isn't just _any_ species. These are humans. We're not going to treat them like the others."

            The woman looked put out for a moment, then thought it over. "Musidora," she finally decided. "She's still working on the Tellarite database."

            Archelus nodded. "Tell her to get ready. And she'd better not make us wait."

 

            "I just feel a little ridiculous meeting them with armed security personnel," Archer insisted, as he and T'Pol strode towards the airlock, "when their ship could clearly blast us to dust any time it wanted."

            "Scans are inconclusive as to the extent of their weapons, Captain," T'Pol argued. "It does not logically follow that because their ship is large, it must also be heavily armed. I believe humans even have a saying to this effect: Size isn't everything."

            "I just came in on a weird conversation," Trip commented, looking at the two of them dubiously as he joined them from Engineering.

            Archer finished coughing. "T'Pol was just assuring me that even though the Venkii ship _might_ be able to vaporize us at will, we should still have a security escort for our visitors, in case they thought it was more fun to kill us in hand-to-hand combat."

            "Captain," the Vulcan admonished, "that is a _gross_ misinterpretation of what I told you."

            "Well, you won't find _me_ arguin' with the MACOs," Trip threw in. "If it bothers 'em, just tell 'em it's an honor guard."

            Archer shrugged. The MACOs could stay, he supposed. "Did you get a look at their ship?" he asked Trip as they rounded a corner.

            "Ugliest d—n thing I ever saw," Trip confirmed. "Like it's just made of random bits and pieces of metal, stuck together."

            "That may be an accurate assessment," T'Pol noted. "Preliminary data suggests the ship may be modular."

            "That shuttlepod, or whatever it is, sure broke off easily enough," the engineer added thoughtfully. "Say, maybe we could start carrying _our_ pods attached to the outside of the ship, on the docking ports." Archer had to look at him to see that he wasn't serious. "Might result in fewer uninvited guests."

            "Most likely, it would result in greater loss of shuttlepods," T'Pol countered, her tone indicating she clearly thought little of Trip's idea. The two men merely smirked silently as they reached the airlock.

            Hoshi's voice floated over the comm. " _Captain, the Venkii shuttle is requesting permission to dock._ "

            "Permission granted," Archer told her. There was a slight clunk a few meters away from them, outside the ship, then the mechanical sounds of the docking clamps and seal engaging.

            "They are in the airlock," T'Pol reported coolly, looking at the computer screen.

            The light blinked green and the inner door slid open with a slight hiss, revealing their visitors. Captain Archelus stepped through first, a tall, slim man in his early 40s, it appeared, with slightly shaggy reddish-blond hair. He was followed by an even taller, heavyset man with dark curly hair and finally, a young girl, mid-teens perhaps, whose eyes went immediately to the computer panel to their left. Although their clothing didn't bear much resemblance to uniforms, it _was_ all black.

            "Captain Archer," Archelus greeted cheerfully, reaching out a hand to shake.

            Archer took it after the slightest hesitation, not used to alien visitors knowing this custom. Of course he also wasn't used to alien visitors who looked and sounded so thoroughly human. Hoshi had reported that their communications were even in English, albeit an odd form. "Captain." Archer turned to indicate his crewmen. "This is my first officer, Commander T'Pol." She and Archelus nodded cordially—Archer noted the visiting captain did not bother offering to shake with her. "And my Chief Engineer, Commander Tucker."

            "How d'ya do, sir," Trip greeted cheerfully, shaking hands.

            "This is my second in command, Patrick Mulvaney," Archelus introduced. _Even their names sound human_ , Archer thought. This was getting stranger by the minute. "And my daughter, Musidora." The teenager blinked owlishly at Archer and kept her hands to herself.

            They inadvertently paired up as they walked down the hall to the Captain's Mess, leaving Trip trailing behind with the girl. She was staring around the ship with avid interest. "Uh... I reckon this ship must look a lot different than what you're used to," he commented, trying to make polite conversation.

            "Very much so," she assured him, squinting at a computer viewscreen as they passed it. "It's like something from one of my history lessons." Slightly miffed, Trip stifled a sigh. This might be a long evening.

            "We certainly appreciate your intervention with the Klingons," Archer was saying at the head of the procession.

            "Think nothing of it," Archelus insisted dismissively. "The Klingons have been a bit bullying lately. Cuts in the military budget, I'm given to understand," he added, glancing back at Mulvaney. "Makes the captains a bit desperate for a prize."

            "You mentioned a Treaty of Rangor," T'Pol reminded them. "The Vulcan database is aware of no agreement by that name."

            "Guess your database has a few holes," the Venkii first officer remarked lightly. He had an odd accent... Archer would have guessed Irish or Scottish, if he were human. "It was a pact signed by six or seven species, including the Klingons, about fifty years ago."

            "Forty-seven point three," corrected Musidora quietly.

            _Oh, G-d_ , thought Trip with some horror. _She's one of_ those!

            Mulvaney paused for a moment then went on smoothly while Archelus smirked a little. "It draws a border for the Klingon Empire near this system. There's not much enforcement of it these days, though."

            "It gives them a bit of an out," Archelus added, "if you've got them outgunned. Klingons have a very proud culture, you know. They'd rather be destroyed than have someone say they ran away out of fear."

            "I have to admit, they seem a little incomprehensible to us sometimes," Archer commented, hoping for some common ground.

            "Absolutely," Archelus agreed knowledgeably. "Like many species, they've taken a good idea and run it out to ridiculous lengths. Perhaps they feel that's the only way to stand out in an increasingly crowded galaxy."

            "Here we are," Archer announced, opening the door to his private dining room. The table had been set for six, the maximum it could hold. The room had never seemed particularly shabby or even simple to Archer before, but for some reason he felt it woefully unsophisticated for their visitors. The Venkii seemed to be quite a bit more experienced with intergalactic relations than the _Enterprise_ crew was.

            They seated themselves around the table with the captains at either end. Trip ended up across from the teenager again, watching her examine the silverware with great curiosity. It made him feel oddly better—how advanced could these people be, if they didn't even have forks and spoons? Unfortunately, once the food was set before them, none of the Venkii seemed to have any difficulty with the utensils.

            "Ah, chicken Florentine," Archelus commented upon seeing the dish Chef had prepared. "One of my favorites. Excellent," he complimented, when Archer gestured for him to start.

            "Do you carry live chickens on your ship, Captain?" Musidora questioned pertly.

            "Uh, no," Archer replied, momentarily struck by the remark. "We keep the meat in stasis and prepare it as needed."

            "You don't have any live animals aboard?" the girl persisted. Trip wondered what the fascination was.

            "Dr. Phlox has some critters in his Sickbay," the Chief Engineer offered. "For medicinal purposes. And of course there's Porthos."

            "My dog," Archer explained with a small smile. "He's a pet, for companionship."

            "What kind of dog?" Musidora asked.

            "Uh... a beagle." Okay, so they knew about dogs, apparently.

            She appeared unimpressed with the breed. "What do you do about waste removal for your dog?"

            Archelus coughed and gave the girl a reproving look as Mulvaney's lips twitched. Trip got the feeling she was a handful for them, too. "I'm sure the Captain would rather discuss why we were following him," Archelus suggested tactfully.

            "I have to admit, I am curious," Archer responded diplomatically.

            "The Venkii, as a rule, are merchants," Archelus began, taking another bite of chicken. "And we've been hearing a lot about you and your crew at several of our regular stops. Apparently you've been mistaken for us on occasion."

            "The superficial resemblance to humans is notable," T'Pol allowed, "although hardly unique among the species we've encountered."

            "Gotta agree with that," Trip threw in. "Just cover up those ears and you could pass for one yourself," he told the First Officer.

            This time it was Archer's turn to cough as he shot a discreet glare at his Chief Engineer. "It's true, we've been asked about the Venkii once or twice," he admitted. "I suppose people make assumptions sometimes, when they're in a hurry to do business."

            Archelus smiled a little, as if he knew something Archer didn't. "With all due respect to your First Officer," he rejoined, "the resemblance is... more than superficial." Archer gave him a questioning look but Archelus continued with his planned story. "Word began to get around about you, Captain, you and your ship from Earth. Eventually the Venkii Council of Elders determined that someone should be sent to observe you, and possibly make contact."

            "How long have you been following us?" T'Pol inquired, slightly suspicious.

            "A week," Mulvaney answered with a shrug.

            Archer tried not to show his astonishment; Trip did less well. They had only begun to realize they were being followed three days earlier, and hadn't confirmed it until that morning. Then Archer tried to think back about what they'd been doing for a week, and whether any misadventures they'd had could have been solved by assistance from a second ship. Fortunately none came to mind, but he speared his next piece of chicken a bit viciously.

            The gesture did not go unnoticed. "I do apologize, Captain," Archelus repeated, and he sounded sincere. "I realize it's likely considered poor form—"

            "To sneak around spyin' on people?" Trip interrupted testily. "I'll say."

            "We weren't _spying_ on you," Musidora shot back, as if _Enterprise_ didn't hold enough interest for that activity. "We travel cloaked all the time."

            Archer and Archelus signaled to their more volatile companions to settle down. "We were simply trying to be cautious, Captain," Archelus added, not defensively. "If you had turned out to be, say... overly aggressive, like our Klingon friends, we would have just moved off, and you never would have known we were there."

            "How did you detect our presence?" the teenager asked matter-of-factly, and this time her father outright rolled his eyes at her. "Mother told me to ask," she protested, in a tone that suggested that explained everything.

            "I doubt they're going to tell us," he murmured under his breath, giving her a serious look. "So just _eat_."

            Archer thought about it for a moment and decided that a gesture of trust on his part might go a long way right now. "It was the energy modulation of your ship," he replied deliberately. Trip looked a little displeased that he'd given it away.

            Archelus looked a little confused. "Energy modulation? Of the shields, perhaps?" He directed this question, surprisingly, to his young daughter.

            "Our shields are set at a randomly modulating frequency," she contradicted, with the tiniest touch of condescension in her voice. "They blend into normal space noise and are undetectable."

            Trip narrowed his eyes at her. "Well when you pass by a red dwarf emitting skewed energy modulations, your little patch of _random_ kinda sticks out."

            "Hmm," Archelus shrugged without concern. "That seems very clever, Commander."

            Trip made the mistake of turning a slightly smug look on Musidora. "Should be easy enough to compensate for," she sniffed, undefeated. "We could do it automatically if we tie the shield modulator into the long-range scanners."

            "You seem to know a lot about engineering," Archer observed, trying to steer the conversation back into polite territory.

            "It's a hobby," the girl told him dismissively. Trip couldn't resist giving his captain a look that said, _Do we really have to put up with this?_ Archer's look in return was a firm, _Yes. Shut up._

            "My wife is our Chief Engine," Archelus commented to them casually, and the _Enterprise_ crew members glanced at each other dubiously. No one ventured to correct him, however. "But Musidora's specialty is music." The girl looked pleased with herself. "Lately she's been analyzing a musical database we acquired from the Tellarites. You're familiar with Tellarites, Captain?"

            "Indeed," Archer answered cautiously, unsure if Archelus counted them friend or foe. "We've had some... dealings with them."

            "Irritating little buggers, wouldn't you say?" Mulvaney asked cheerfully. "Though I have to admit, it's kinda fun insulting them to their face, knowin' it's what they like."

            "It does take some getting used to," Archer admitted.

            "Another idea, taken to a foolish extreme," Archelus judged confidently. "Like the Klingons, I suppose they think they're establishing an intergalactic reputation, but when the time comes for cooperative action among different species, I believe they'll find these stereotypes hold them back."

            Well. Archer didn't really have anything to add to that discussion. Trip didn't let that stop _him_ , however. "I wonder what reputation humans will have," he mused. "Once we've been around for a while, I mean."

            Mulvaney snorted a bit. "Bunch of busybodies, probably," he suggested, not unkindly.

            Archelus gave him the same kind of _shut up_ look Archer had given Trip earlier. "Curiosity does seem to be one of humanity's more prominent traits at the moment," he agreed carefully, "but I predict that your compassion, and your ability to put aside differences when working towards a common goal, will be your lasting contributions to the galaxy."

            Archer was a little stunned. "Well—thank you," he finally uttered, unsure how else to respond. He was flattered by the assessment, but also beginning to feel like a toddler who had mistakenly been seated at the adults' table.

            "You mentioned earlier that the Venkii's resemblance to humans was more than superficial," T'Pol reminded Archelus. "Were you speaking in terms of general character?"

            Archelus smiled a little, setting his napkin down beside his empty plate. "No," he replied lightly. "The Venkii tend to..."

            "Mind our own business?" Mulvaney suggested.

            "Keep to ourselves?" Musidora proposed.

            "Oh, G-d, I really should have come alone," Archelus muttered under his breath. Archer suppressed a smile. "We're certainly not without compassion, Captain," he tried to explain, leaning forward on the table. "And many of us are certainly... thirsty for knowledge about other cultures." He reclined again. "But experience has taught _us_ that discretion is the better part of valor, and that... visionaries often pay a terrible price for their optimism." He seemed to be thinking of something for a moment. "I hope experience won't teach _your_ people the same thing, Captain."

            "I can't argue with that," Archer agreed. "We're really just beginners at this," he added, though he suspected his guests didn't actually need that reminder, "and so far, I think we've still got most of our optimism intact." Archelus's smile in response was pleasant, decidedly _not_ condescending.

            "If it is not in your character that you are similar to humans," T'Pol persisted, "then may I enquire, to which traits you were referring?"

            "Well," Archelus answered easily, "I suppose, technically speaking, you could say, we _are_ human."

            " _What?_ " Trip sputtered.

            "Do you mean that metaphorically?" T'Pol speculated.

            "Genetically," Archelus countered. "Physiologically. However you would like to put it. We've acquired a few... important differences over the years, but—our ancestors also came from Earth."

            "That's crazy," Trip insisted. "Humans didn't even have warp capability until a hundred years ago, and this is the _first_ ship fast enough to go into deep space."

            "In your travels, you've never met any other humans out here in 'deep space,' unexpectedly?" Archelus asked leadingly.

            Archer, T'Pol, and Trip exchanged glances. T'Pol was the one to finally answer. "We did meet one person, who appeared to be human, though her... explanation for her presence in this part of the galaxy was far from sufficient."

            Archelus smirked a little. "Does she happen to fly around in a giant hollowed-out asteroid?" he guessed cheerfully.

            "Alexandra Smith," Archer nodded, thoroughly bemused at this point. "As I recall, she _claimed_ she had been abducted from Earth by highly advanced aliens. During the Renaissance—five hundred years ago."

            "And she'd been zippin' around in that 'Smithworld' thing ever since," Trip added, not entirely convinced himself, "with just those hologram people around for company."

            "Miss Smith's job," Archelus told him self-assuredly, "is to compile information and investigate phenomena on behalf of the Liberators. The rest of the humans who were, as you put it, 'abducted' with her, had a different destiny."

            There were so many things to comment on in this latest statement Archer didn't even know where to begin. "Liberators?" he finally asked. He was torn between feeling like he was the last one to be let in on an intergalactic joke—or the last one to be told a basic fact of life.

            "That's what we call them," Archelus shrugged. "Highly advanced aliens, non-corporeal actually, on a different plane of existence."

            "What the h—l," Trip muttered flatly.

            "It may be a bit outside the realm of your experience," Archelus allowed tactfully.

            "Just a bit," Archer agreed, with some irritation.

            "They chose humans as their agents to fulfill their curiosity about the galaxy," Archelus went on. "Perhaps they've done this in other galaxies as well, we don't know for sure. Smithworld is the original vessel where our ancestors lived. The Venkii, all the Venkii, are the descendents of Alexandra Smith's human peers."

            "That's... a pretty bold claim," Archer pointed out cautiously. "Any chance you could prove any of that?"

            "Probably not to your complete satisfaction, Captain," Archelus acknowledged with a smile. "But perhaps your physician could at least confirm our species, hmm?"

            Archer kept eye contact with him for a moment. He didn't sense any kind of deception, really, from this man—actually, he kind of liked him—but on the other hand, his story was preposterous, to put it mildly. Still, if it were true, somehow... He reached behind him and hit the comm button. "Archer to Phlox."

            " _Phlox here, Captain_ ," the doctor answered cheerfully.

            "I'm bringing our guests down to Sickbay," he announced. "I'd like you to run a few tests."

            " _Certainly, Captain_." Phlox sounded duly mystified.

            Archer stood and the rest of the table rose as well. "Right this way."

            "I do realize this story must seem a bit ludicrous," Archelus conceded as they made their way, in pairs again, down to Sickbay. "But try to imagine _our_ shock when we first heard that humans, from Earth, were making their way into space on their own."

            "We had a little help," Archer corrected, glancing back at his First Officer. A year or two ago there would have been more bitterness in his tone, but since then he had learned the value of a little help, even if it were grudgingly given.

            "Ah, yes, the Vulcans," Archelus remarked enigmatically, then continued, "It was what, only sixty or seventy years ago that humans began to step outside their own solar system and into others?"

            "The Terra Nova colony was established about seventy years ago," Archer confirmed. "It was humanity's first venture into what was considered deep space at the time."

Archelus nodded. "I remember my father and grandfather talking about such things—they thought it was just a wild rumor at first."

            "They did not believe humans on Earth would ever develop the capacity for space travel?" T'Pol questioned from behind them.

             "They didn't believe in _Earth_ ," Archelus countered. "They'd been in space for four hundred years, forbidden by the Liberators to go past certain coordinates, which we now realize might have taken them near the Sol system. They thought Earth was a mythical place, some sort of corrupted fairytale from our ancestors."

            "My granny never did believe it," Mulvaney informed them affectionately. "She said Earth was where the gods lived, where Venkii went when they died—so how could anyone ever find it on a map, let alone come to space from there? It'd be like comin' back from the dead."

            "Eventually the Council of Elders agreed that these rumors should be thoroughly examined," Archelus continued. "Unfortunately, all human ships remained beyond the forbidden coordinates for quite some time. We had to rely on second- and third-hand accounts from other species, although eventually some solid evidence was accumulated."

            "Humans not bein' shy about leavin' their genetic material lying around where anyone can pick it up," Mulvaney added smartly.

            "Then it was just a matter of waiting," Archelus concluded. "When you crossed into this section of space, Smithworld was sent to investigate. And now—us." They stopped outside the Sickbay doors. "The first reunion of the space-faring children of Earth." He smiled fondly.

            Archer's smile was a little tighter. "I hope you'll forgive me if I don't break out the champagne just yet," he remarked.

            Archelus grinned broadly as they stepped into Sickbay. "Of course, Captain, of course. After all, we've been investigating _you_ for decades." That thought was not a particularly comforting one to Archer.

 

            "It's _true_?!" Trip exclaimed in disbelief.

            "Well, obviously I cannot vouch for the _entirety_ of their claims," Phlox cautioned. "But aside from a few minor genetic deviations, those three people are human."

            "You're _sure_?" Archer persisted.

            Phlox shrugged. "Captain, I have performed a half-dozen scans and tests—genotyping, physiological responses, brainwave patterns—and almost every result reads, human. They can be nothing else."

            Archer seized on one word. "You said, _almost_."

            Phlox gave the Captain the look of the scientist trying to explain his work to a layman. "The only time the computer gave an 'unknown' response was with Miss Archelus's brainwave patterns. There appears to be nothing like them in our database." His lips twitched a little. "Miss Archelus did say that the, ah, Liberators had given the Venkii 'enhancements.' It's odd that the unique pattern should appear only with her and not with Captain Archelus or his officer, but it's possible that may be an effect of age or sex. The overwhelming majority of the tests, however..." He trailed off, allowing Archer to finish the thought.

            "Aliens flyin' by Earth in, what, the 1600's, scoopin' people up and puttin' them in spaceships?" Trip couldn't quite get past it. "That's still a pretty crazy idea."

            "The Vulcan Science Directorate has been investigating claims of prior alien visitation to Earth for many years," T'Pol informed them coolly. "As yet, they have found _no_ evidence to support these allegations."

            Trip stared at her. "You're tellin' us _aliens_ are investigating claims that _other_ aliens got to Earth first?" He snorted and gave Jon a look. "You guys feelin' insecure or _what_?"

            T'Pol looked slightly offended. "The project is a collaborative effort between human and Vulcan scientists and historians to reconstruct an accurate picture of Earth's extraterrestrial communications," she countered stiffly. "Unlike humans, Vulcans are incapable of feeling insecure."

            Archer gave Trip a look that said he wasn't going to win this one. "Well, have you got a better explanation?" he asked his First Officer curiously.

            T'Pol had to concede that she didn't. "But we cannot rule out the possibility of some kind of elaborate hoax, or conspiracy," she warned.

            "What would be the point of _that_?" Trip asked skeptically. "You think someone out there just wants to have a good laugh at our expense?"

            "If it _is_ an elaborate hoax, or conspiracy," T'Pol contradicted, "I doubt the goal of it is merely humor. However, I do not have enough information to form any kind of firm conclusion."

            "Scans of the Venkii vessel?" Archer prompted her.

            "Inconclusive," she admitted. "Their energy shield deflects our scanning frequencies." She gave Archer a significant look. "If you could persuade Captain Archelus to allow someone from _Enterprise_ to board their ship—"

            Archer shook his head. "Already tried it."

            "And he turned you down?" Trip guessed. "Doesn't sound very 'brotherly' to me."

            Archer shrugged. "He was very polite about it. He said that 'outsiders' have never been allowed on Venkii ships—if they have to transport someone, they even keep them in shuttlepods separate from the main vessel." He paused thoughtfully. "He said that 'centuries of caution, and tradition, were difficult to overcome.' Whoever these people are, _whatever_ they are, I get the feeling they haven't always been as well-respected as they seem to be now."

            "Captain," Trip admitted, shaking his head, "we've seen a _lot_ of stuff out here that's been pretty mind-blowing. But I _never_ , in a million years, woulda guessed we'd be makin' First Contact with—ourselves."

            "Yeah, that's a new one on me," Archer agreed.

 

            The two captains paused at the airlock. Archelus held out his hand. "It's been a privilege meeting you, Captain," he said sincerely.

            Archer shook his hand firmly. "It's definitely been an... eye-opening experience."

            "Probably best that we both have some time to think things over," Archelus suggested with a bit of a smirk. "Besides, we have our trade routes, and you have your missions."

            "Perhaps we'll run across each other again," Archer remarked. It wouldn't be an entirely unpleasant experience, certainly.

            "I hope we will," Archelus agreed. "But the important thing is, as you say, you have our number. Safe travel, Captain."

            "Safe travel." And with that, Archelus departed for his shuttlepod. Within just a few moments the massive bulk of the Venkii ship had cloaked itself and, Archer optimistically presumed, warped away.

            He sighed as he headed back to the Bridge—this was going to be one h—l of a report to send to Admiral Forrest.

**Author's Note:**

> Alexandra Smith of Smithworld is something I made up, but never wrote a story about.


End file.
